


The Abominable Fiancé – An AFTFE TAB Special

by Blood_Sucker_1428



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Victorian, Episode: The Abominable Bride, F/M, Gen, Romance, Victorian, a first time for everything, mythea
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-19
Updated: 2016-12-19
Packaged: 2018-09-09 19:57:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8909953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blood_Sucker_1428/pseuds/Blood_Sucker_1428
Summary: Anthea had the closest thing she could imagine to a pretty perfect life. She had close friends, a fiancé who - while boring - was reasonable not misogynist in comparison to others, a job far better than offered to women – and most men – and the most interesting and amazing boss in the shape of Mycroft Holmes. Her engagement was the thread holding this life together and when that falls apart so does her life as far as she can see. AFTFE universe set in Victorian times.





	1. The First Time She Met Him

**Author's Note:**

> I promised a big TAB AFTFE special for Christmas, and I think I’ve delivered. It’s probably the size of 3 or 4 normal updates because I got a bit carried away. First thing of course, thanks for the lovely feedback for last chapter in AFTFE Proper as I shall call it. I was extremely happy with it and over the moon that you all like it. I just can’t wait to hear what you all think of this one! Comment both chapters if you want since they both have different focuses or just wait until the end. Your choice. Please read, comment, and enjoy!
> 
> Note: You can absolutely read this on its own. HOWEVER it is a “The Abominable Bride” Victorian era special for my Mythea fic “A First Time For Everything” so some things may seem strange without knowing that backstory. But read it you want!

When Alice Clarke willingly broke up her engagement with Tim Burgess people called her crazy. They were an extremely attractive couple. And Mr. Burgess! How all the girls wanted him! A smart and promising lawyer with the right breeding to be polite but not so posh he’d turn down middle classed clients. He was well mannered, well spoken, and smart enough that Alice could have an intelligent conversation with him without hurting his ego or masculinity. He was also good to her. Not the way other men were good to their women, he didn’t coddle her. He was good because he understood that she needed to work. He understood that before she settled down and had children like a good little wife she needed to live a little. Not to mention Alice was always going on about how he saved her life.

Not literally, you understand.

After finishing the highest level of education her Uncle would allow her to do Alice pleaded to be able to stay in London. She did not want to go back into town where she used to live with her parents. She did not want to go back and have her Aunt dress her like a presentable young lady and try to auction her off to the highest bidder. Alice Clarke wanted a chance to live. Not entirely like the men do, she wasn’t crazy, but just a little. She didn’t want to become a housewife. She wanted to wear all the new fashions, she wanted to wear heals to work, she wanted to live in a flat all on her own for at least a little while. Her Aunt and Uncle had given her one year to set up a life worth living in London. One year to prove she had something there and then they’d let her stay. Her job as a secretary at an accountancy firm wasn’t enough for them, nor was her little flat rented out to her by a charming old man who’d she’d proven was safe. Then she met Timothy Burgess and he was that something worthwhile to them.

Tim was lovely. He was. He didn’t rush her into a proposal quickly like another man might, he didn’t expect her to be available on his beck and call, and he wasn’t threatened by her witty sarcasm. He was smart, lovely to look at, a bright future ahead of him, and so frightfully boring. But Alice will always love Tim because he did save her life. Not only by allowing her to stay in London, but the fact that this lead to the man who truly did give her a life worth living. A man who saw potential and not the person it was wrapped up in.

If Tim hadn’t allowed Alice to stay in London then she would have never met Mycroft Holmes.

It was at her work. Her not very fulfilling but better than sitting at home all day work. They had gotten word that some high up government people were investigating one of the clients of the firm and needed to look over any records they had of him. Alice didn’t know what she had expected but the group of people who came in over that week were not the people she had expected.

The first two days were a man and a woman, oddly enough. A tall man with the physique of a strong man from a circus. He would be intimidating if not for the blonde hair and how uncomfortable he looked dressed in the three piece suit. The woman was strange. Only just shorter than the man and taller than most of the accountants in the firm. She had strong fierce features and the hardest stare. She also wore a suit and for the first day everyone thought she was a man. Alice got the impression that the woman was disappointed when they discovered the truth. Probably much preferring the respect she received when called “sir”. They did not find what they were looking for. Information seemed to be lost and even though Alice could recall some of the facts and figures none of the men she worked for were listening to her.

The third day the woman did not return. Instead the blonde man came with what people could only assume was his boss. Tall and solid. If he were shorter Alice would call him fat but with his height behind him the man seemed to carry it well and might be called simply chubby by some. He was dressed to impress in the finest grey suit with a blue silk tie. His steely eyes bore holes into everything he looked at and he looked at everything. Absorbing every fact and figure he could about the room with a glance. There was a level of confidence and intimidation about him that caused everyone to work with a panic. And there was an intelligence in those eyes that ran so deep that it was hypnotising.

The man wanted to know why the information was lost and who was the idiot who didn’t keep their files in check. After much talking down and causing much fear the accountants began blaming their assistants. Until Alice revealed what she remembered in the file. Funnily enough, the intelligent man and the strong man were the first people to listen to her and accept the information. With her help the accountants managed to scrape up the needed information within the week. On Friday Alice had a file to give to the strange man when he came in.

 “Sorry we forced you to come out here, sir.” Alice smiled as she handed over the information. The man stopped to look at her, curiosity sparking in his grey eyes. He twisted the umbrella in his hand into the carpet.

 “How do you know it’s not my job to be out here?” The man hummed in a melodious voice as smooth as velvet. He wasn’t shocked, he wasn’t appalled, he was just curious. Alice was cautious of over stepping her boundaries and getting in trouble with this man and the men in her office but she had caught the man’s attention and she was pleased by that.

 “Your clothes, mostly… and your smile.”  She shrugged. There was a moment of silence. The man cocked his head to the side.

 “Please elaborate.” It was refreshing to have someone so interested in her opinion.

 “Your suit… It’s very nice, expensive nice, sir. More than most of the gentlemen in this office could afford, even the man and woman who came before you didn’t dress as nice. This, sir, and the way everyone scuttles around you as if you’re important.”  He raised his eyebrow in faint amusement.

 “And the smile?” He asked. Alice smiled, slightly embarrassed for having noticed this particular detail.

 “Despite the level of authority about you, and I’m certain you could scare the wits out of anyone, there was something… gentle about your smile.” He had smiled at her during the week and he had laughed at something the blonde man said… It had not matched the persona at all. It was bright and soulful. “I haven’t come across many men with gentle smiles who hold low government roles like security. And your smile doesn’t reach your eyes, sir. Low level employees don’t need to cover emotions or fake them.” _And you look like the type whose eyes sparkle when they smile_ she thought to herself. The man looked Alice’s face over, taking in every detail. He was fighting off a smile.

 “Very well done, Miss Clarke.” He shifted the umbrella. “And do you want to know what I can tell by looking at you?” He asked. Alice fought the urge to gulp. “I can tell that while you excel at you job, you do not enjoy it or find it challenging. Gender roles constrict you, your pretty little face constricts you, and perhaps people within your social and familial life constrict you. You risked your career because someone somewhere had informed you that this information was important to someone else. Why?” Oh, he was better than she had ever wanted to be at this. She was right, he did absorb any information she could see. He was a real genius. Alice shrugged, unsure as to what her reasoning was herself.

 “I like to see work through.” She answered. The man chuckled softly. He reached into his pocket and handed her a card with an address on it. On the other side was an ‘ _M’_ and nothing more.

 “Finish the week of work, Miss Clarke. Enjoy the mundane tasks. On Monday, if you feel like your ambition matches your ability, come to that address.”

* * *

 

 “Mr. Holmes.” The blonde man spoke through the crack he had opened into what Alice presumed was this Mr. Holmes’ office. By looking around this reception area it was no doubt opulent with the finest furniture.

 “Thank you, Mr. Baker, send her in.” Mr. Baker popped his head out of the door. He gave Alice a great big gentle smile and held the door open for her. She curtsied politely and walked into the room, Mr. Baker closing the door behind her. He was exactly as she remembered him. Sharp eyes, fake smile, and a neatly tailored suit. His office was what you imagined while reading literature. The finest furniture, beautiful paintings on the wall, plush chairs, and bottles of scotch and wine at the ready.

 “Nice to see you again, Miss Clarke.”

 “Mr. Holmes.” Alice nodded. He looked at her, those eyes almost twinkling at her keen observation. He gestured to the chairs in front of his desk for her to sit and she did so.

 “What I am offering is not your typical secretary or assistant role.” Mr. Holmes pressed the fingers of his hands against each other. “With that said, that does not mean it won’t be boring at times. There would be a lot of paper work and a lot of mundane errands.” What else did they ever assign women to do?

 “I suppose this is for the role that Mr. Baker is currently doing?” Alice asked. Mr Holmes tilted his head, imploring her to explain. “He looks uncomfortable at a desk. I don’t have an insightful answer, Mr. Holmes.” Alice shrugged lightly and Mr. Holmes gave a small smile that quickly faded away.

 “He is indeed uncomfortable at a desk, but James is trustworthy.” A first name. That implied that there was a long relationship there. “I can’t just have anyone in this office as I am sure you have discovered for yourself.”

 “With the covert numbers and no names, I had no clue, sir.” The sarcasm slipped out of her mouth before she could stop it and not for the first time did Alice curse her sense of humour. No doubt it had cost her this opportunity. Yet once again Mr. Holmes’ eyes almost twinkled as he smiled in response. Did he find her charming or amusing? Or just another annoying woman? His intelligence oozed from him and here she was making a fool of herself the way she always did, poking fun where her sarcasm wasn’t welcome. “I’ve been doing paperwork and fetching tea for years now, sir. I’m quite efficient.” She smiled. “Though it seems to me you may want someone viewed as more… capable in this role.” By capable she meant someone who could garner more respect. Someone more like Mr. Baker than her. Someone not viewed as emotional and flighty. A man, simply put. Mr. Holmes pursed his lips, his eyes narrowing as he looked Alice over.

 “Oh, you’re a woman?” He cocked his head to the side. “Here I thought you wore skirts for fun.” Alice covered her mouth as a burst of laughter escaped her mouth. Her dark eyes glittered with humour. Mr. Holmes leaned back in his chair, adjusting his jacket. She could see that the jacket was coming awfully close to being too tight. Mr. Holmes continued. “What I am looking for is a personal assistant and everything that goes along with it.”

 “Paper work, telegrams, food, tea, scotch, meetings, et cetera.” Alice interjected.

 “Yes, that.”  He sounded vaguely amused. “However my job is, well, more important and dangerous than it appears to be. There are many dangerous tasks that go along with being _my_ persona; assistant and you will be on call twenty four seven. This is not a role for just any man, nor woman.” Alice smiled tightly, feeling a little bitter.

 “If you’ve looked into my life, Mr. Holmes, then you know I don’t have one.” She had forgotten completely about dear Tim. “And I’ve been searching for excitement and danger my entire life.” Mr. Holmes stared at Alice for a long time before speaking.

 “Do you know how many assistants have said that to me in my career so far and how many of them barely last a month? How many over qualified men have run from this office?”

 “I’m not most people. Mr. Holmes. I’m not a man either.”

A beat.

Mr. Holmes smirked.

 “No, you are not, Miss Clarke.”

That is how Alice Clarke met Mycroft Holmes and became Anthea James.

That is how her life became covert and overt operations. How it became running with Mr. Baker in the streets, or late night meetings with Mr. Holmes. How her life became checking in on Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson. How it became violin concertos and soulful piano sonatas. How it became visiting the country to see Mr. and Mrs. Holmes, and lamenting with Mycroft when he had to order new suits. How Mr. Baker and Miss Thompson became Mr. and Mrs. Baker. How it lead to an accidental kiss and a promise to never talk about it again.

That is how Alice Clarke got the life she always wanted.

Until Tim believed that she loved Mycroft Holmes more than she loved him.

Until Tim slept with another woman, absolutely destroying Alice’s reputation until the rumours spread to her Aunt and Uncle.

Until Alice had nowhere to go but to the place she really didn’t call home.

Until Alice quit her job.

* * *

 

 “You’re quitting because your fiancé cheated on you? That is the most absurd thing I had ever heard.” It had taken three days since Anthea handed in her resignation for Mycroft to process this information. Three days for him to finally voice any sort of opinion on the subject. Naturally, he wasn’t happy.

Anthea and Mycroft sat across from each other in a private room in the Diogenes Club. Anthea, Mary Watson, and Carol were the only women ever allowed to even step foot in this place. If they even knew Carol was a woman. Anthea despised this place but she always made a show of walking through the halls in her beautiful dresses and skirts, wearing heals that clicked loudly on the floors. That always made it a little easier to be in this place. They couldn’t say a thing about it. No one could touch Anthea James. No one dared speak up against Mycroft Holmes’ strong willed assistant.  Anthea smiled sorrowfully at Mycroft and couldn’t put the heart she normally would into the eye roll she gave him.

 “I’m not leaving because of Tim.” She answered. “I’m leaving because my Aunt and Uncle are making me.” Mycroft blinked tiredly at her.

 “You’re only making yourself look worse here.” He scoffed. Anthea crinkled her nose at him, so used to him speaking that way at this point.

 “They don’t want me living alone in London.” Again, she only received a blank expression.

 “Who do they think you are?” His tone sounded offended for her.

 “A woman.” Anthea answered.

 “A _child_.” Mycroft corrected. This was one of those moments when she wanted to reach out and embrace Mycroft Holmes. Those moments when his protective streak came out and covered her. Not because she was a woman, either, but because she was someone important. It was one of those things that made the genius so special; he saw people for what they were.

 “Actually, no.” Anthea shrugged. “They said I’m getting to that age where it’s embarrassing to have an unwed female relative.” Mycroft’s expression dropped and changed to an utter look of disgust mixed with a hint of anger.

 “No, that’s the most absurd thing I have ever heard. Keeping in mind that I regularly converse with my brother, and with James.” Anthea hid a little chuckle behind her hands. “Forget about them, Miss James. Disown them. I’ll have a flat sorted out for you within the week.” If her heart had been warmed before, it broke now.

 “They’re the only family I have, Mr. Holmes.” She spoke softly and sombrely.

 “Mrs. Baker would be horrified to hear you say that.” He cocked his head to the side. “My mother too.” Without a doubt that was true. Jamie and Anthea had a deep bond that dated back to their childhood. Jamie had been the greatest support Anthea had when her parents died. While Mycroft’s parents were simply the most wonderful people Anthea ever had the pleasure to meet. If Anthea could pick a family of her own, without resurrecting her parents, she’d choose Jamie and the Holmes family in a heartbeat. Carol would be a close second. Anthea shook her head, a little at a loss.

 “What would you have me do, sir?” Her breathless voice reflected this loss. “I refuse to live off of newlyweds who are starting a life together.” She spoke of course of Jamie and James. Mycroft frowned, clearly seeing the issue here. “My Aunt and Uncle wish to see me safe and they wish to find me a new fiancé. As much as I hate it, it’s what is expected of me. My parents had no other children, my uncle had no children. I’m it. They need me.” Mycroft clenched his jaw and looked at the floor. But Anthea had seen this before, he wasn’t truly seeing the floor, he was somewhere in his mind. The man was deep in thought, searching the vast areas of his mind for a solution.

 “If that is all they wish, then for convenience sake, we could…” He trailed off as he looked up and his grey eyes caught hold of her gaze.

 “Sir?” Anthea prompted. The stout man pursed his lips and waved a hand at Anthea, dismissing his thought.

 “No, you wouldn’t have it.” He exhaled. Anthea considered prying. She wanted to know what he had almost suggested but if he had decided that she would have none of it then she, in all likelihood, probably wouldn’t. So she let it go.

 “Well, then.” Mycroft gave Anthea one of those fake smiles that lacked any of the spark his natural smiles had. “If you ever need anything, my dear, you know where to find me.” If Anthea’s heart had broken before it shattered now. She didn’t want to leave work, she loved it. She didn’t want to leave Mycroft, she’d never cared for a man the way she cared for him. But he was made of ice and stone, and any crush she may have was never going to go any further. So she was throwing away her dream career and arguably the only man she’s ever had feelings for, to keep hold of the only family she had left.

If her mother was alive this would never happen.

* * *

 

So Anthea spent months at her family’s house in the country having nothing to do all day except accompany her aunt everywhere and meet with whatever eligible bachelor her aunt and uncle tried to shove down her throat. There was something wrong with each and every one of them, though that was Anthea’s who dating history before Tim. This one was too short, this one too tall, this one too thin, that one not thin enough. None of them were smart enough, most of them were too cocky, and one was too shy. She didn’t like blondes as much as she used to, green eyes reminded her too much of Tim. None of them dressed well enough. Only one spoke another language and he was one of the short, cocky ones. This one was far too social, that one didn’t understand sarcasm. Too many of them belittled her opinions. One of them had a musical education but he was one of the ones who didn’t get sarcasm. One of them had stunning blue eyes, but his intelligence let him down.

When she wasn’t entertaining these silly men and boys, she had nothing to do. One can only visit their parent’s grave with handpicked flowers so many times. No job to keep her busy, no relative of a boss to run after. She didn’t even have Jamie to have lunch or dinner with. She missed Jamie and her James so very much. She missed talking to her best friend, her sister, and laughing at whatever happened that day. She missed James pretending to be man of the house to his acquaintances and work people but then asking permission from Jamie before agreeing to do things. She missed James throwing food at her across the dinner table when she visited and being chided by Jamie. She missed Carol swearing up and down that men shouldn’t be allowed in positions of power. She missed Carol fixing her hair like she was her daughter or her sister. Walter! The cab driver. She missed his big hugs and his friendly smiles. A true gentleman through and through! She missed chasing after John and Sherlock. She missed rolling her eyes with Mary as they both reported to Mycroft what the boys had been up to. She missed her home in London so much.

Most of all she missed Mycroft. She missed how he treated her, Mary, and Carol like any other respected employee. She missed his sarcastic remarks and the things he’d mutter to her so no one else could hear. She missed when he’d smile, really smile at her and she’d see the soul hidden within the Ice Man. She missed walking into his estate to the very rare sounds of the piano being played. She missed when he’d drop the formalities and call her Alice. She missed the Italian lessons he’d give her when he was bored and they had nothing else to do. She missed how much he cared for his brother. She missed... him. She missed everything about him. She knew she would. She had barely stopped thinking about him since they kissed that night in the Diogenes Club.

She wanted to go home. She wanted her family back. She wanted her make-shift sister and her make-shift brother-in-law back. She wanted the only friends she’d ever had back. She wanted to be around strong women again. She wanted to see Mycroft again. Just to see him would be lovely.

What was she doing here? Staying here like she owed her aunt and uncle some sort of debt. Like her life was dedicated to a man who didn’t even want to take his sister’s daughter in. These people, they were not her family. Her life and her family were back at home. If Anthea were a man she would have never come back. She would have laughed in their faces. Why did she need to do this for them? Because she was a woman? If Anthea had wanted anything her whole life it was to have a life of a man, and if working for Mycroft had taught her anything it was that women could do anything. Anthea was the second to Mycroft, Mary was a spy, Carol an agent, even Hooper at the morgue was a wonderful woman by the name of Molly who was in the guise of a man. They didn’t have to do anything they didn’t want to. If Anthea wanted to go back to London she could. She owed herself that. She owed it to her parents to live life to the fullest for their sakes. She had helped to bring down criminals. She could live in a flat in London all by herself. Be damned what others think and say.

Anthea was going home.


	2. The First Time She Went Home

The feeling of London air once again filling her lungs was far more refreshing to Anthea than the country air ever could be. It smelt of deception and danger, of mysteries and murder. It was like coming home from being kept prisoner for far too long. She never wanted to be out of a city ever again. If she were going to travel it would be to another city and not permanently. Anthea, no, Alice belonged in London just as much as Sherlock Holmes did.

The cab driver helped carry her suitcases into The Baker’s house while Jamie encapsulated Anthea in a rather large hug and James stood off to the side with his patented large smile. Jamie did not have a very good time without Anthea by the sounds of it. Jamie liked to play the good housewife and socialise with all the sophisticated women she could but deep down that wasn’t who she was. She was no doubt going insane without another intelligent woman to talk to who wasn’t her husband’s work partner. Also, one can’t explain how important a friendship as long as theirs was. They were sisters.

 “I hope I’m not imposing.” Anthea said as the newlywed let her free from the hug. Jamie laughed and lightly tapped Anthea on the arm.

 “In my house? Never.” She insisted. “Stay as long as you need to, isn’t that right James?” James, hands in his trouser pockets, nodded.

 “I’m happy to see the prettiest face from work back, and my wife adores you.”

 “Don’t forget that your boyfriend adores her too.” Jamie smirked at James, earning a strange look from the cab driver.

 “Everyone I love loves Anthea more, you don’t have to remind me dear.” James chuckled back. He might be one of the few men Anthea knew who could take a comment like that so well.

Anthea paid the cab driver with her own money, thanked him kindly, and walked him to the door. He was no Walter but he was certainly rather nice. When she closed the door and walked back to her best friends she walked into a conversation.

 “Have you told Alice what to expect tomorrow?” Jamie asked, looking up at her husband with her arms folded across her chest.

 “With what?” James raised his eyebrows. Jamie clicked her tongue and lightly shook her head.

 “With Mr. Holmes. What did you think I meant?” James shrugged. He seemed to instantly tense up – his whole body going rigid.

 “I don’t know. I’ve seen her the same amount of time as you. How would I have told her already?” He sounded as nervous as he looked.

 “I don’t know, dear. You’re the secretive people. I should think you have a direct line to each other somehow.”

 “Tell me about what?” Anthea asked, bringing her heeled feet together and echoing how Jamie had her arms folded across her chest. The two blondes looked at her with wide eyes. “Has something happened with Mycroft?” She asked. The married couple exchanged a look. James looked down at the ground and ran a hand from the back of his neck to the crown of his head, messing up his combed hair.

 “Holmes, he…” James winced. The tall man looked up but didn’t quite meet Anthea’s eyes. He looked over hr shoulder. “Holmes and his brother have a really weird bet going on.” Anthea’s brow furrowed. She looked over to Jamie and her best friend looked quite troubled. Her vibrant and chirpy hazel eyes looked dark with worry.

 “A bet?” Anthea repeated. “What on Earth are those two doing now?” Jamie winced again, looking at his wife. Jamie nodded.

 “It’ll be obvious when you see him.” The agent only offered that information.

 “James.” Jamie sighed.

 “I don’t know what to say!” He shrugged again. “How do you tell a woman that the man she…” He trailed off and quickly glanced at Anthea. “That _that’s_ going on and they’re not listening to anyone.”

 “A little information would be nice.” Anthea interjected, speaking louder than the other two. “I’m not fragile.” Jamie looked over and finally gave her some information.

 “I don’t know too much about it, only what others have told me.” She shook her head. “All I know is that it’s not healthy.” Anthea looked between James and Jamie, back and forth, back and forth, trying to discern anything she could from their facial expressions or their body language. She was coming up empty.

 “What do you mean by that?” She asked. James sighed and once again looked down at the carpeting.

 “Please don’t make me tell you, Anthea.” He croaked. “You’ll see tomorrow.”

* * *

 

Just as Anthea arrive at the Diogenes Club, Mary Watson was leaving. The two women spied each other at the entrance to the building.

 “Anthea!” Mary exclaimed, smiling brightly.

 “Mary.” Anthea laughed happily as the woman approached her. They embrace chastely, neither women being too affectionate but both missing each other a great deal. They could understand each other in a way most women couldn’t. It came with the deal when you worked in the shadows. It was hard to connect to people when you couldn’t share your secrets with them. Anthea and Mary had bonded over secrets. Dr. Watson was very surprised by this seemingly out of the blue friendship.

 “Mr. Holmes told me you sent a letter asking for your position back.” Mary rubbed Anthea’s arm as she let her go. “I was so pleased to hear it.”

 “I just had to come back, Mary.” Anthea shook her head. “The country was dreadful. So dull.” She widened her eyes. “And no man with a rich family is worth any of your attention once you’ve duelled with some of the world’s most interesting men.” Mary gained a knowing smile as she looked upon Anthea.

 “I’d miss John just as much if I hadn’t seen him in so long, too.” Anthea blinked. She subconsciously touched the blue sapphire necklace at her neck.

 “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She said. Mary looked at the necklace with a peculiar sparkle in her eye.

 “Are you going to try that act with someone who knows all about that contract he made you sign after you-?”

 “Yes, okay!” Anthea waved her hands in front of her face. “We don’t bring that up, remember? It didn’t happen.” Mary’s face went sullen and her mouth was tight. She glanced up at the club.

 “I wish your leaving never happened.” She spoke in the same tone James had used yesterday. “You might have been the only person who could have stopped this.” Anthea took a step closer into Mary’s space. She looked the spy dead in the eyes.

 “Are you talking about this so-called bet?” She raised her eyebrows. Mary pursed her lips and nodded so lightly Anthea might have missed it. “Mr. Baker told me nothing. I’m sure you will spare me no detail.” She asked her dear friend. Mary took a breath as she flattened out the skirts of her dress, preparing to tell Anthea whatever this was.

 “You know the history between the brothers better than I do, better than my husband maybe. So maybe this will make more sense to you than it does to the rest of us.” She shook her head. “Sherlock and Mycroft have decided that it would be _fun_ ” She widened her eyes then rolled them, “To bet on Mycroft’s weight.” She lightly shrugged a single shoulder. “Apparently they’re betting on how quickly the older Holmes can eat himself to death.” If it wasn’t so unladylike and uncouth Anthea’s jaw would have hit the floor. Instead she settled for giving Mrs. Watson an incredulous stare.

 “Excuse me, but what?” Anthea spat out. Mary pushed her lips together and nodded. Anthea tucked one of her loose curls behind her ear. “No…” She shook her head. “Mycroft has never been too concerned about his health regarding his weight but he knows he’s far too valuable to waste his life on something like that. Even to win against Sherlock.” Anthea laughed despite herself. Like this was some kind of joke.

 “He claims he’s bored.” Mary looked about as satisfied with this answer as Anthea felt.

 “Oh yes, because that makes sense.” Anthea sneered. In a sudden shift, she looked at Mary sincerely. “Why did nobody write to me when this began?”

 “I did.” Mary frowned at Anthea. “Did you not receive them? I wrote to you twice.” Anthea didn’t have to answer. Both women glanced up at the building and looked at each other knowingly.

 “Thank you for tell me.” Anthea nodded politely, sounding down but not entirely out. “But now I’m officially running late for my first day.” She tried to smile wryly but it only partially came across with her concern.

  “It’s nice to have you home, Anthea.” Mary said as her farewell.

 “It’s nice to be back.” Anthea replied just before the two women went their separate ways.

* * *

 

Anthea walked right past the staff and guests of the Diogenes Club, not even looking in any of the directions. She walked in like she owned the place. Some looked aghast to see her back, some acted like she’d never even been away. One staff member tried to stop her, probably to tell her she wasn’t on the list anymore, but she paid him no mind and kept walking. One staff member smiled at her, catching her a little off guard. She offered a polite, very fake, smile in response and kept going.

Anthea walked into the room and almost fainted, grabbing the door handle to support herself. The man in the room was almost unrecognisable. Mycroft had never been thin, not in all the years Anthea had known him, but this… He was morbidly obese to the point where Anthea was certain he could drop dead at any second. His eyes were off colour, his beautiful slender hands now covered in fat and she could not imagine those sausages dancing elegantly on a keys of a piano. As she looked over his large form she wondered if he could even stand for very long anymore. She felt ill, violently ill. She rubbed her forehead with her hand as if it would take away the faint feeling that had overcome her.

 “ _Mycroft._ ” She cried breathlessly. A thin lipped smile came onto the genius’ round face and his eyes might have sparkled if he were healthier looking in the face.

 “Miss James, it’s wonderful to see you again.” It sounded like he meant it. He waved in the direction of a stack of files. “I have a gathered a rather long list of tasks that only someone with your tact and skillset can accomplish to my standard.” His bored work tone of voice in place. “If you mind starting immediately, I would very much appreciate it.” Anthea heard what Mycroft had said but not a word had been absorbed and processed. She was too shocked. Aghast not only by the appearance of the man himself, but the amount of food that littered the room. There was more here for one man than Anthea had seen at entire banquets. She dropped her purse down outside the door and wandered around the room inspecting the foods. Such extravagant food – fit for and king and queen, and their entire court. Pies, pastries, meat dishes, even fruit.

 “What on Earth is going on here?” Anthea demanded, as she held up some pastry between her thumb and index finger and allowed to drop back onto the silver plate with a thud.  Mycroft quirked an eyebrows, a bored expression crossing his features. Anyone else and he would have rolled his eyes, Anthea knew that.

 “Surely someone has told you, my dear.” Mycroft sighed. “Don’t ask unnecessary questions.”

 “Sorry, sir. Allow me to rephrase.” Anthea wiped grease off on the skirts of her dress, scowling. She looked dead at Mycroft. “What on earth to _you_ think you’re doing?” Anthea hissed.

A pause.

Not even so much as a change of expression from Mycroft.

 “Entertaining myself. And winning the bet.” That pompous attitude of his.

 “Winning?” Anthea balled her hands into fists and held them close to her mouth, bracing herself so that she didn’t snap and say anything bad. “Mycroft, you’re huge!”

 “You don’t say.” He joked, smirking at Anthea. Her hands opened up and she ran them both through her hair, ruining some of her carefully styled curls.

 “No, it’s not funny.” She heaved. “You’re going to die!” The humour dropped from the large man’s face. He looked off to the side of the room, avoiding Anthea’s eye.

 “That is rather the point.” He muttered. Anthea took a breather. She looked around the room and tried to find the right words but every time another type of food came to sight she lost all words. She took another step towards Mycroft.

 “Why are you betting your life, sir?”

 “Entertainment.” Mycroft clicked his tongue. “Don’t make me repeat myself.”

 “You would rather be dead than be bored?” Anthea scoffed.

 “And lose to Sherlock.” Mycroft added, trying a bit of dark humour. Anthea with her deadpan expression was having none of that. She looked up to the ceiling and tried to clear her vision. It was starting to get wavy with tears that threatened to fall. She didn’t cry. Why would she want to cry now?

 “Why would you waste such a tremendous life?” She pleaded. Mycroft scoffed with derision at Anthea’s words. He looked entirely done with this conversation.

 “England was fine before, Anthea. It will be fine long after I’m gone.” He waved her off with a flick of a fatty hand. “There are protocols for that in place.” Anthea wrung her hands together. She didn’t mean a waste for the sake of his job. She never meant that.

 “I don’t care about England.” She said, earning a strange look from the genius. “What about your friends and family?” She hopelessly took another step forward. Mycroft searched her face and her eyes. He was looking at or for something before he came out of it with the same blank arrogant expression.

 “Need I remind you that I am playing this game with my brother?” As he spoke he leaned across to one of the tables to pick up some time of sweet. Anthea came close and swatted his hand with her well trained reflexes. Mycroft looked at her with annoyance and disbelief as he held his hand.

 “Friends?” She asked. Mycroft laughed. “Mr. Baker is practically haunted by this, is he not a concern friend? I saw Mary Watson outside and you know she enjoys your company greatly. Dear old Walter would be devastated if you died before him.” Mycroft looked like he wasn’t listening to a word Anthea was saying and that was distressing. Anthea could feel those tears she was holding back growing heavier and heavier. They were so close to busting out.

 “All of the people you just described work for me, my dear.” Mycroft vacantly stated. “No doubt they’d be concerned for the security of their careers.” Anthea folded her arms against her chest.

 “You don’t think any of them consider you a friend?” She asked and for a fleeting moment Mycroft appeared to hear and consider her words. He ruminated on this thought for at least thirty seconds before raising his eyebrows.

 “Yes, well, I don’t do friends. The feeling needs to be reciprocated to be considered a friendship.”

 “What about me?” Anthea asked quietly. A flash of thunder crossed Mycroft’s grey stormy eyes.

 “The friendship of a woman who’d recently waltzed out of my life for the sake of what little scraps remain of her family wasn’t exactly the first thought on my mind.” He sneered. First Anthea’s expression dropped as she let the comment hit and wash over her like a wave. Then Mycroft saw the effects and his arrogant sneer dropped. He closed his eyes and rubbed at his forehead. “Forgive me.” He spoke gently. “I forget how harsh I can be at times.” He looked at her once again. “You know I never intend to use your orphaned status against you.” She remembered when he reminded her that she had family in London. She shook her head gently, washing away the guilt and pain that came with Mycroft’s jab and accepting his apology at the same time.

 “You say that like I left willingly.” She sat down on her knees on the floor, dress billowing around her to circle her. She looked at Mycroft and shook her head. “I did not leave willingly but I came back on my own.” She earn herself a gentle smile from the large man.

 “And your assistance for the meanwhile, as well as your company, is very much appreciated, my dear.” He hummed. At least his voice and his words were still velvet and cause the hairs on the back of her neck to stand up.

 “Why does it have to be the meanwhile?” She sighed. “Why can’t you give up the bet?” She blinked her eyes dry. “For me.” Mycroft rolled his eyes. “I missed you.” Anthea whispered.

 “That would have faded if you were away for long enough.” It was supposed to be words of comfort. It certainly wasn’t.

 “But I came back for you.” Anthea felt a tear or two escape and she quickly caught them with the back of her hand. Mycroft’s expression softened further.

 “London is your home, Alice, dear.” His use of her real name caused her to whimper. He hardly ever said it, especially her first name. To think she might never hear it again, it broke he heart. “You belong her.”

 “I told you I don’t care about London.” She was trying to keep her voice from quivering. “I don’t.” She shook her head. “I didn’t even come back for Jamie, or Carol, or any of them.” She looked deeply into those steel eyes. “I came back for you.” Mycroft cocked his head to the side and clicked his tongue.

 “Alice…” He practically cooed. “If this is about your little crush, dear,” He spoke gently. “There will be others.”

 “It’s not a crush.” She accidentally sobbed as she spoke, wiping more tears away. “You’re so special, Mycroft Holmes.” She sniffed. “You’ve got the most incredible mind and a great heart behind the stone and ice. I’ve never felt this way about anyone. Not Tim, not even Robert and I thought I loved him.” Mycroft gritted his jaw as he watched Anthea. His eyes were discernible to her. She’d never seen him so… pensive.

 “Alice.” He whispered.

 “You can’t leave me now.” She sobbed. “Not when I’ve realise how much I love you. That wouldn’t be fair.” She tried her best to stop her make up for smudging. “I’ve already had my share of unfair things happen to me. I don’t want to lose you, too. I love you.”

 “Alice.” Mycroft repeated. Sniffing silently, Anthea brought her attention to the genius’ pensive face. “Dear, come here.” One final sniff and Anthea got back up to her feet. She finished the small gap between her little frame and Mycroft. He reached out and took one of her hands gingerly in his own. Her fingers were cupped between his palm and fingers and he stroked her hand with his thumb as he looked over her hand like he was memorising every last detail of it. No one spoke a word. He brought his hand and hers up to his face and planted a gentle kiss on Anthea’s knuckles. Her very being bubbled and filled with a warmth she had been missing for such a long time. Then he held her hand against his cheek and for a moment she considered that this was but a fever dream for surely this is not something that happened.

 “Here’s what I’m going to do, Alice, my dear.” Mycroft spoke as he pulled her hand away from his face. He still held it in his own, stroking it with his thumb. “I’m going to a break today and focus on work and your return. I’ll give it some thought overnight and I shall return to here tomorrow with an answer for you.” He squeezed her hand and offered her a small but gentle smile. “Does that sound reasonable?”

 “Yes, sir.” Anthea sniffed.

 “No need for pleasantries right now.” Mycroft gently chided his assistant who’d just called him sir after professing love to him.

 “Yes, Mycroft.” Anthea smiled. A little sparkle returned to Mycroft’s eyes.

The door to the room creaked opened. In came a man wheeling a trolley full of even more food. As if this room wasn’t full enough. As if there weren’t children starving in orphanages. As if this whole place wasn’t a monument to opulence and greed.

 “Sir, your morning tea.” The man spoke once the door close. A wave of heat and raged fuelled Anthea at that moment.

 “Out!” She yelled, pointing at the door and snatching her hand free from Mycroft. “Are you serious with this? Out!” The man blinked and fumbled in his attempts to speak.

 “M-Miss James! But Mr. Holmes s-”

 “I don’t care.” She interrupted him. “I’m back now and all food orders will now be run through me. Do you understand?” The man nodded vigorously and began backing out of the room with the trolley. “And if I so much as see another plate in this room I will scream so loudly that the entire street will hear, never mind all your patrons.” The door was open and no doubt she’d just disturbed a decent amount of guests and staff. Oh well. She had to remind them of who she was and re-establish the pecking order somehow.

Anthea closed the door hard behind the man. She smoothed down her dress with a huff. As she turned back into the room Mycroft was watching her with the smile of a naughty child.

 “What is it?” She asked, humour dancing on her own tongue simply from the look on his face.

 “It’s so much more fun here when you’re around.” Mycroft hummed. Anthea laughed graciously.

* * *

 

With no one to stop and chat to the next morning, Anthea was right on time for work. This time as she walked through the halls of the Diogenes club no one seemed at all surprised or appalled by her appearance. She wondered if they were simply used to having her back here already or if this had something to do with her very loud threat. It had been successful, at least. No more food was brought into the office yesterday and she could only hope to keep it that way again today should her boss allow it.

Walking into the room today was a vastly different experience than walking into it yesterday. This time it was like coming home. It smelt like papers, ink, and scotch once more and not the hideous odours of cooked meat and warm bread that had filled it yesterday. The tables of food had been removed and the normal furnishing back in place, including a desk for Anthea to work at. Anthea couldn’t keep the smile off her face now. This is what it was meant to be like. This was the London she desperately wanted to come home to.

Sitting right where he had been yesterday, minus the mass of food that had been surrounding him, was Mycroft. He did have a plate of breakfast in front of him but considering what had been happening this was an incredibly small breakfast for him. It would be enough for her and Jamie to share but one can’t expect a man of that size who had been eating that much to cut down to nothing right away. Who knows what kind of shock that would do to his system, and his was already walking dangerously close to death.

 “Good morning, my dear.” Mycroft hummed upon spying his assistant. Anthea’s smile grew larger.

 “Good morning.” She answered as she took placed her purse down on her desk and glanced at the names on the files on her desk. “Enjoying breakfast?” She asked, looking up from the files to see Mycroft sigh dramatically.

 “Sherlock is not going to be pleased about this.” He muttered as he looked down sadly at his plate.

 “Well, I am.” Anthea folded her arms across her chest. “I’m overjoyed.” She looked at him lovingly.

 “Which reminds me.” The genius put his cutlery down. He folded his hands together and rested them on his stomach. “Would you care to join me on Sunday afternoon?” He asked. “Not for work, of course,” He then frowned and cocked his head. “And given the circumstances I suspect you’d refuse an offer to lunch or dinner, either.” Mycroft smirked at Anthea and she bit her thumbnail to keep her smile from exploding as she sniffed a laugh. “So perhaps a walk? A very short walk. And a drink?” Anthea pursed her lips together. She rubbed her arms and took a deep breath, pretending to be deep in thought.

 “I don’t know.” She hummed. “I’d rather thought about calling Tim up for a drink on Sunday.”

 “Don’t even think about kidding about that.” Mycroft spoke dangerously low. Anthea laughed, shaking her head and making her curls dance.

 “Nothing would make me happier than having a drink with you on Sunday, Mycroft Holmes.” And nodded. “And going for a walk. The longest walk you can possibly manage in this state.” Mycroft clicked his tongue and feigned annoyance but his eyes were too full of life to even suggest that he was truly irritated by the concept.

Anthea once again closed the gap between them. She leaned forward and kissed Mycroft on the cheek.

 “Welcome home, my dear.” Mycroft said with the utmost sincerity as Anthea stood up straight once more. He’d missed her just as much as she’d missed him. As she looked in his blue eyes and examined his sincerity she considered the idea that maybe he even missed her more than she missed him. She didn’t make friends easily, and she didn’t have traditional family, but she cared for more people than Mycroft did. For Mycroft, his list of people was small. What was it like for him to lose someone who was second or third on that list? That didn’t matter now. She was home, she had more control over her life than she ever did before, and she had a future to be excited for.

 “I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So? So? So? What did you think??? Did you like it? Tell me ALL your thoughts in comments please because I just had the best time writing this. It was a blast and a half! I love all my readers so very much and I am so excited to hear what you all think of this. See you in five days with an update for the normal modern time story back at AFTFE Proper!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [The First Time He Lost a Bet](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9085630) by [Hestia01](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hestia01/pseuds/Hestia01)




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